Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,14
a fraud for doing so.
She wasn’t a lady; surely, folk would look at her askance tonight at the banquet.
They were waiting outside Dunnottar’s hall, in a wide gallery, while servants made the finishing touches within. It was growing late in the day; the last rays of the setting sun streamed in through the arched windows behind them, the sunlight sparkling off the North Sea beyond.
The scent of wood smoke wafted in, and despite her nervousness, Aila smiled. De Keith might have forbidden his wife from lighting the Beltaine bonfire on one of the hills west of the castle, but that didn’t stop the locals from burning their own fires.
A flash of green caught Aila’s eye then, and she spied her sister approaching. Heather’s arm was linked through that of a lean, swarthy man. She wore a lovely pine-green kirtle and had woven spring flowers through her thick brown hair. Maximus, as always, was broodingly handsome at her side.
Not for the first time, envy stabbed Aila at the sight of them.
One would have to be blind not to see just how madly in love these two were. Heather had literally glowed ever since their wedding. Upon her return to Dunnottar, Aila’s sister had become Lady Gavina’s companion, a role she’d continued even after her union with Maximus. She visited Gavina every afternoon, working alongside the lady at her loom.
Aila knew that Heather longed for her and Maximus to have their own household one day, preferably in Stonehaven. She wondered how long it would be until her sister’s womb quickened. Strangely, whenever Aila or her mother had brought up the subject of bairns, Heather had gone quiet.
“Mother Mary, what a vision,” Heather greeted her sister. “Where did ye get that gown?”
“Lady Gavina loaned it to me,” Aila replied stiffly. She hadn’t forgotten their argument earlier, or forgiven her sister for her lack of support.
Sensing her distance, the warm smile on Heather’s face ebbed a little. Her lips parted as she readied herself to say something else.
But the opening of the doors behind them forestalled her.
The crowd waiting in the gallery flowed into the long hall—a rectangular space flanked by large windows and with a great hearth up one end. The laird’s table sat before the fire, while the rest of the tables lined the room lengthwise.
Gazing around, Aila took in the lovely decorations she’d helped put up earlier in the day: garlands of lilac hung from the rafters, the scent wafting through the air, and pots of daisies and roses decorated all the tables and the window sills. Despite the warm evening, a fire crackled in the hearth tonight—for Beltaine was a fire festival, and even if Lady Gavina couldn’t have a bonfire this evening, she wouldn’t do without fire entirely.
“Come,” Aila’s mother took her by the elbow and steered her down the hall. “We’re seated at the laird’s table this eve.” The pride in Iona’s voice was evident. She loved any occasion where she and her kin got to break bread at the same table as the laird and his wife.
She still had designs on elevating her position at Dunnottar. Donnan was steward here, yet Iona De Keith had wished for a greater standing. She often lamented what a pity it was that Robert and David didn’t have any younger brothers—for one would have suited Aila.
Aila’s jaw tightened. Of course, she’d hoped that her daughters would wed well. Dashed dreams there—for Heather had wed a foreign soldier, a man without rank or fortune, and Aila had gone into service as a lady’s maid.
It looked as if her mother would have to content herself with her current position, for things weren’t likely to change.
Taking a seat at the laird’s table, between her mother and sister, Aila caught Lady Gavina’s eye across from her. The lady flashed Aila a conspirator’s grin, and Aila favored her mistress with a nervous smile in return. She knew Lady Gavina was pleased with her handiwork—yet she felt out of place in such finery.
Sooner or later, someone was sure to comment on it, or make fun of her.
But as the hall filled up, and one by one, folk took their places at the long tables, no one did.
Gradually, Aila’s nervousness ebbed. However, the brownies in her belly started dancing once more when Captain Gaius appeared at the laird’s table. Handsome in a turquoise lèine belted at the waist and dark leather braies, Cassian took a seat to Lady Gavina’s left.
Heart pounding, Aila stared down at the pewter goblet